


Second Guessing

by CalumSmiles (dreamforlife)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Laughter, Love, M/M, Muke - Freeform, Pining, Starbucks, a lot of fluff, tweet references, tweets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamforlife/pseuds/CalumSmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He realises how creepy he is when he catches himself staring at Luke’s back as it rises and falls and gets to his feet with a wince. Thank god neither of the others were around to witness that moment of absolute Edward Cullen-level creeptastic behaviour. </p><p>~</p><p>Michael made himself a promise that he wouldn't dwell on his feelings for Luke but lately, it's been hard. In the end though, small self-made promises don't matter really and random girls in Starbucks are really quite helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Guessing

**Author's Note:**

> SO. Hello everyone XD It's been a while ahahaha 
> 
> Anyways, here's a fic that started off as a short one about the half-naked Luke and nachos tweets that were heaven sent from Michael and ended up as this long thing that rapidly spiralled out of control. 
> 
> Enjoy! ^_^

The evening sun is streaming into the living room through the half-drawn venetian blinds, painting the wooden floors in bright ribbons of sunlight, and Michael rubs the crust of sleep out of his eyes as he walks in, squinting against the glare.

Some show about J-Pop is on the television, groups of girls dancing in their cute outfits to songs that he can’t understand. As he rounds the corner of the couch, his mouth twitches up into a smile, the ache of fondness familiar behind his breastbone.

Luke is sprawled across the gigantic sofa, shirtless with an old pair of Ashton’s basketball shorts slung low across his hips, clearly asleep with one arm loosely looped around a mostly-full bowl of nachos and the other arm clutching a cushion under his head.

Rubbing at the corners of his smile, Michael shuffles quietly into the room, gazing at the peaceful figure of his best friend.

He pulls up twitter, for lack of anything better to do, and tweets like he usually does, knowing full well that Luke will bitch at him later because of it.

_@Michael5SOS: Luke is passed out next to a bowl of nachos. this is the best day of my life._

_@Michael5SOS: And he’s also half naked with J-pop girl groups playing on the TV._

The replies flood in almost immediately and Michael huffs in amusement as he locks his phone amidst thousands of requests because _pics or it didn’t happen._ He feels a bit protective. He wants this moment to be his. The picture he takes will end up in his album filled with stupidly adorable pictures of Luke.

Gently, he teases the remote out from where it’s half buried under Luke’s stomach and shuts down the television, and the sudden silence is only broken by the gentle hum of Luke’s breathing as he exhales. He perches on the edge of the sofa, watching as Luke’s back rises and falls, the way the broad width of his shoulders taper into the solid strength of his torso and curve upwards to his arse before it reaches the endless length of his legs.

He clears his throat, rubbing impatiently at the sudden flood of heat to his cheeks as he looks away, embarrassed at letting himself look when he’d been so good to his promise for so long.

The strength of the feelings he has for Luke isn’t a secret, never has been. Calum had known since high school and Ashton had found out not long after he had written _The Only Reason._ The only person who seems to be blissfully ignorant is Luke himself. Michael really doesn’t know how Luke hasn’t figured it out, it isn’t really a secret that he’s trying particularly hard to keep.

Michael startles as Luke makes a sound, a breathy, exhausted whine that he stifles into the cushion pressed into his cheek. He’s drooling, Michael’s delighted to note, mostly because it’ll serve as excellent blackmail for a later date. He snickers quietly as he snaps up a photo.

But the sound itself hooks itself into Michael’s head, digging claws deep into him and he finds himself studying the sleep-slack features of Luke’s face, the soft cheeks and the easy, undisturbed calm that seems to have settled over Luke like a warm blanket straight from the dryer. His mouth is relaxed in a way that Michael’s only ever seen when Luke is sleeping, otherwise always pulled up into a grin or an annoyed grimace at one of them. He finds that he likes it, the peaceful look on Luke, because they’ve been so tired lately.

He realises how creepy he is when he catches himself staring at Luke’s back as it rises and falls and gets to his feet with a wince. Thank god neither of the others were around to witness that moment of absolute Edward Cullen-level creeptastic behaviour.

Just as Michael is about to tip-toe out of the room and let Luke sleep—they’d been out for far too long the previous night, it’s their own fault really— the front door bangs open and Ashton’s yells seem to shake the house to the core.

_“Fucking arse, give it back!”_

Calum’s laughter billows from the front foyer, shattering the soft atmosphere in the living room, and Michael rubs his forehead with a resigned sigh. The footsteps thunder past the door.

Speaketh of the devils and they shalleth appear.

“ _Calum—no don’t you fucking—CALUM HOOD!”_

Since there is no chance to keep Luke from waking up, Michael follows the tell-tale sounds of his two idiotic best friends fighting like cage-starved lions and finds himself leaning in the doorway of the studio, watching Calum standing on a chair, holding a Starbucks cup above Ashton’s head and cackling like a madman. Ashton’s jumping at him, probably too afraid to knock him over lest they ruin the soundboard and other surrounding very-very-expensive-equipment, cursing in some of the most colourful language Michael has ever heard him use.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Ashton notices him and immediately yanks him into the room. “Please tell your friend to give me the damn coffee cup.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “My friend?”

“Well he sure as fuck ain’t mine right n—”

Calum’s hiccups cut Ashton off and he glares up at the boy who’s grinning at him.

“Why do you even have Ashton’s cup?”

“The barista was flirting with _me!”_ Calum exclaims, waving the thankfully empty cup. “She was fucking flirting with me and wrote her number on Ashton’s cup!”

Ashton scoffs. “For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t flirting with you. She fucking smiled and asked for your name _for the damn coffee order,_ idiot, that sure as fuck wasn’t flirting.”

Michael wants to punch them both in the balls. When did he become the peacekeeper? And they’re fighting over a _barista?_ Jesus fucking Christ.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he snaps, pinching Calum’s stomach hard enough to make him squeal and catching the coffee cup as it falls. He shoves it at Ashton’s chest. “Here’s the fucking cup, now can we all shut the fuck up before Luke wakes up?”

A small, amused chuckle comes from behind them and Michael spins around.

Luke waves, rubbing his chest, “Bit late for that.”

Michael flashes him a grin before turning around to glare at the two sheepishly loitering behind him. “Happy?”

Ashton helps Calum down from the chair and the two share a knowing smile that rubs at Michael complete the wrong way because who said they could be smug little shits? Michael certainly never gave them permission.  

“Mikey.” Luke prods at his face and he blinks at the sudden proximity. Luke grins unashamed. “Cuddle?”

Two very loud and obnoxious snorts are hidden—terribly—behind faked coughs and Michael has to tell himself repeatedly that the band needs the bassist and the drummer to keep from turning around and strangling Ashton and Calum with his bare hands.

Luke is looking at him with bright baby blue eyes with his hair falling over his forehead and scruff lining his jaw, pink lips stretched into a grin that says that he _knows_ Michael can’t and won’t say no, and Michael disintegrates like a well-made Apple crumble, oozing goo and warm squishy bits.

“Yeah,” he says on an exhale, “cuddle.”

Ashton coughs obnoxiously as Michael follows Luke towards the living room.

_“Whipped.”_

Michael sticks up the finger at him over his head because he’s punk rock and really, who is Ashton to judge when all he does is fight with Calum like he’s ten and pulling his crush’s pigtails? He doesn’t think Ashton has any right to talk.

Calum’s giggles follow him down the hallway and Michael rolls his eyes.

“I can’t believe they were fighting over a barista,” Luke mutters as he drops onto the couch. The suede spoofs under his weight. “They’re actually twelve.”

“More like they’re love struck idiots.” Michael says, bitterness seeping into his voice.

The high-pitched giggle that bursts out of Luke has an involuntary smile tugging at his mouth and he pounces, knocking Luke back onto the couch and laying over him like a dead octopus.

A muffled groan rumbles under him. “Oh god—Mikey, can’t breath.”

He laughs, leaning back and actually slotting himself into the familiar length of Luke’s body, slipping his arms and legs into the well-worn spaces between Luke’s.

Luke coughs dramatically but nudges him with a grin and settles down into the cushions with Michael half atop him. “So. You think they really are?”

“Are what?”

“Love struck.”

Michael snorts, hooking his chin onto Luke’s shoulder to hide the heat in his cheeks as Luke moves his hands under his shirt and rubs his palms along his back. “Nah. They’re straighter than uncooked spaghetti but in principle, yeah.”

Ashton and Calum have always had an interesting dynamic, since day one. Michael remembers a time when Calum wanted to be out, doing things, exploring, going to the beach, when Michael would rather stay at home and play games on his Xbox. In a way, Luke was like him but he was also like Calum and on the days Michael wanted to stay at home—which admittedly was always—he’d go gallivanting with Calum.

He remembers when Ashton came along and slipped in like the perfect missing puzzle piece and they’d become a foursome instead of a trio. Suddenly Calum had someone who was always up for an adventure, to go out at three am to an abandoned beach two hours from their small suburb, and Michael remembers the gratitude he felt, and still feels, for the lively energy and hope that Ashton had brought with him.

But Calum and Ashton bicker like an old married couple sometimes and Michael wants to just mash their heads together just to see what would happen.

“So like, bro-in-love?”

“Oh my god.” He pushes his hand into Luke’s laughing face. Little shit he, laughing at his own terrible jokes. “Never speak again.”

It’s when his hand find Luke’s sides to pinch that he remembers, with startling clarity, that Luke is half naked. His skin is warm under his fingers, smooth and hairless because he’s Luke and he likes it, and the muscles are obvious as Michael’s curious fingers wonder along the skin, mapping it out despite the endless screaming protest of his brain’s inhibitions.

The promise he made fades away like an old photograph left too long in the sun.

Luke squirms. “Stop,” he mumbles, poking Michael between his ribs, “Tickles.”

He grins, hyper aware of the bare collarbones as he tucks his head into Luke’s neck. “Oh yeah?” He knows. He knows far too well just how ticklish Luke is. Doesn’t mean he’s going to be nice about it.

“Michael, don’t you f—”

The full body spasm that rocks his body as Michael digs his fingers into his sides has a shout of pained laughter ripping out of Luke’s throat.

Michael smirks, leaning away from Luke’s flailing arms, and does it again, straddling his waist.

“Fuck off, Mich—”

“—You gonna make me—”

“—hate you—” Luke gasps between breaths, hands circling Michael’s forearms to shake him off.

He cackles, thighs tightening around Luke’s hips to keep his balance, his heart beating wildly as the tickle fight devolves rapidly into a scrap and they roll off the couch onto the thick shaggy carpet, landing with a thud and rolling over and over, yelling and screaming as Michael manages to get in a good tickle into Luke’s armpits before Luke catches Michael’s waist with his leg and flips them over and pins Michael to the floor, wrists above his head.

His breathing shallows as the blood thundering through his heart rushes south.

_Shit._

Michael tries the grip on his hand. It doesn’t budge. He looks up at Luke, Luke who is grinning, satisfied with his work, the edges of his smile teasing, as he sits back comfortably on Michael’s legs. Thank god, otherwise the slight issue in his pants would be a much more… _prominent_ problem.

“Sure you aren’t gonna reconsider working out with us?” Luke licks out, waggling his eyebrows in that stupid, annoyingly adorable way he has.

“Oh fuck you,” Michael exhales heavily, “Let me go, arsehole.”

Luke laughs, his eyes so blue in the late evening light. “I kinda like you like this.”

His heart stumbles in his chest.

But he snorts, trying in vain to free his hands. “What, pinned to the floor?”

“No, idiot,” Luke nudges him with his knee, rolling  his eyes, “Submissive.”

Michael feels his eyes go wide and his stomach bottom out as shock radiates like fire alarm in his head. He gapes up at his best friend, wondering if he’d stepped into an alternate dimension because what the actual fuck.

He watches Luke as he frowns in confusion at Michael’s lack of response before he seems to reconsider his words and a blush blooms through his cheeks like a spring rose. He’s up and off Michael before he can say _Hemmings,_ standing up and rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

Michael stays on the floor, blinking at him.

Luke groans, rubbing at his face before kicking at Michael’s legs. “I didn’t mean it like that, you _ass,_ oh my god.”

A startled laugh tumbles out of his mouth and he pulls himself to his feet, letting an amused grin unfold across his mouth as his brain shuts down.

“Sure you didn’t,” he teases, reaching out to tweak Luke’s nipple, “Sure you didn’t.”

Luke swats at his hands, scowling adorably. “Stop,” he mumbles, “Don’t be mean.”

“Why’s Michael being mean?” Calum asks as he strolls in, munching on a sandwich.

He doesn’t need this to get to anyone else and the semi he’s still sporting needs to be willed away without more thoughts of Luke pinning him to things actually makes it a visible problem. Michael just catches Luke’s eyes and raises an eyebrow. The shake he gets in return has him shrugging. “I stole his last pair of clean underwear,” he lies in lieu of an answer.

“What’s new,” Calum mutters as he switches on the television and switches to a replay of an old Liverpool versus Chelsea game.

Luke’s shoulder droop in relief before his eyes fall on Calum’s sandwich. “Hey, why do you have a sandwich?”

“’Cos Ash loves me.” Calum says through a mouthful, barely intelligible.

Michael rolls his eyes, “Fucking married.”

Luke pouts. “I want a sandwich. Mikey?”

Calum’s smirk is clear even around the sandwich.

“Make your own damn sandwich, bro.”

“But you make the best grilled cheese,” Luke says with a bright smile and what is Michael to do when Luke is looking at him like that?

He caves.

“Alright, _fine,_ oh my god. Get your arse to the kitchen and help me though.”

Luke grins, throws a wink at Calum and saunters away. Michael gapes, looking between the empty spot left by Luke and the knowing grin that stretches ear-to-ear on Calum’s face.

“What the fuck?” He blurts.

Calum’s eyes flicker from the television to Michael and his grin widens as he mimes a whip snapping. “ _Whipped_ and he knows it.”

“I hate this fucking band.” Michael mutters, throwing a cushion at Calum’s face before stalking down the hall to the kitchen to make a sandwich for a boy who apparently knows that Michael will do anything for him.

 

*

 

Almost a month later, Michael kisses Luke on stage.

Okay, it’s not really much of a kiss as much as it is a brushing of mouths but it messes Michael head up too much and if it isn’t for the fact that he has these songs memorised so much that he could play in his sleep, he would have completely fucked up _Kiss Me Kiss Me_ as he stumbles away and back to his own microphone.

He doesn’t know how it happened. One minute he was leaning in to share Luke’s mike and the next minute Luke’s lips are dragging along his and _Luke isn’t leaning back._

The eruption of screams from the audience tells him that it must have been up on the big screen and he wills away the blush that burns in his cheeks, grinning wide and making a face at the camera that pans to him. His heart thunders against his ribs.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe you kissed Luke,” Ashton crows as they spill into the dressing room in a sweat-soaked pile, throwing a hot, sticky arm over Michael’s shoulders and clapping him on the chest like a he’s a solid lad.

Calum’s head snaps up from where’s he rummaging through his bag, eyes wide and mouth stretching into a grin. “You kissed Luke? Oh thank—”

The frantic cut-throat motions that Michael makes shuts Calum up before he can say anything incriminating as Luke laughs, downing half a bottle of water. Michael doesn’t stare at the way his throat moves as he swallows and he definitely doesn’t stare at the water droplets clinging to the corners of Luke’s mouth when he pulls the bottle away.

“Wasn’t really a kiss,” he says as he wipes his mouth and runs a and through his hair, “Kinda like what happened in Nashville.”

Calum groans at the mention of Nashville. “I thought we agreed to never bring that up.”

Michael snorts, chucking a towel at Ashton, “I’m not that bad of a kisser.”

“Yeah but that’s not the point,” comes muffled as Calum strips off his sweat-stained grey shirt.

“The _point,”_ Ashton says, flashing a wicked smile at Michael behind Luke’s back, “is that Michael kissed Luke.”

Michael swears that he will pour the green hair dye in his bag into Ashton’s shampoo tonight and he glares, hoping that Ashton will choke on the peanuts he’s eating.

“Michael kissed Luke?”

He closes his eyes and prays for help at the sound of Zoe’s voice and she sounds halfway between amused and surprised and Michael wonders when everyone found out his terribly-kept secret.

“ _Accidentally,”_ he grits out, shooting her a look. The one he gets in return is sympathetic.

“Well,” she sighs, tapping at her phone, “Tumblr must be blowing up, then.” She grins at her screen before looking up with an amused smile. “Alright, bus call in half an hour.”

The moment the door closes behind her, Calum’s crashing into him, whispering a hurried, _“Zoe ships Muke,”_ in his earbefore running for the bathroom, yelling shotgun because he’s complete weirdo. Michael understands why Calum hightailed it to the bathroom because he does feel like strangling him.

Luke snorts from his position on the couch. “Why is Calum so weird.”

“That, my dear Luke, is a question I’ve been wanting answered for a very long time.” Ashton says with a long look at the shower door.

Michael laughs, “No one is as weird as you, Luke.”

“You’re the one who _kissed_ me!” He retorts right back, challenging.

“You didn’t pull away,” he snaps with a smirk.

Luke stares up at him with shocked eyes. Yes, Michael cheers, _score one._

Movement catches the corners of his eyes and he looks away to Ashton who’s curled in on himself and laughing silently. He stalks past him, hissing, “ _shut the fuck up,”_ and into the bathroom despite Calum’s yells and locks the door so the others can’t get in.

“Michael, what the fuck?” A naked Calum grumbles as he washes the shampoo out of his hair.

“I hate this band,” he mutters darkly, stripping and jumping under an adjacent shower’s spray. He can’t even be bothered to care. They’ve seen each other naked almost every day for four years, a dick isn’t going to scare him.

Calum rolls his eyes, turning his face up to the water to wash off the leftover bubbles. “Maybe,” he says with sigh, “Maybe you should fess up to Luke. He obviously feels the same way.”

Michael chokes on the water that floods into his open mouth as his jaw swings open. Coughing, he thumps the handle, the water shutting off, and turns to gape at his best friend, shivering as the droplets cool on his body.

“What do you know that I don’t.”

“I’m just saying,” Calum murmurs, infuriating slow and far too wise-sounding, “talking to him about your immortal, destined love for him might help.”

He’s across the tiles and pinning Calum’s to the shower wall before he knows what he’s doing, the heat of the spray chasing away the cold and beating down over onto his back. Calum’s wide brown eyes catch his.

“What the fuck do you know.” Michael demands, fingers tight on his shoulders.

“Oh my god, no wonder the fans think we’re all fucking each other,” Calum gripes, pushing at his hands, “bro, get off me!”

“ _Calum_.”

He stops shoving at Michael’s hands, only to reach up and swat him over the head before staring dead into his eyes amidst Michael’s complaints. “Dude. Okay, as your eternal best friend, I am obliged to tell you that you are an idiot. As someone who cares about both of you, I’m telling you to just talk to him. As a person watching this happen from the outside, I’m gonna tell you to just pin him to a wall, not unlike this, and _kiss him.”_

Michael goes to objection but Calum hold up a hand. “I have Ashton’s approval.”

All of his protests die in his mouth and he lets go of Calum and steps back. “You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I really do have Ashton’s approval for this.”

“Not that, genius.” Michael rolls his eyes, because lets be real, Ashton’s seal of approval was probably coerced during one of their weekly bickering sessions by some horribly manipulative method and/or straight up bribery. He doesn’t put anything past Calum. “The kissing Luke thing.”

Calum snorts, grinning. “Oh yeah, I’m being serious.”

“ _Legit?”_

“Oh my god, kiss the fuck out him and I promise you, all will be well.”

Michael pushes a wet hand through his hair. “I’m gonna have to dye my hair red again.”

Calum stares at him.

He grins sheepishly and shrugs. “Luke liked the red.”

The slap of Calum’s hand against his forehead rings around the shower room. “ _That’s_ why you kept it for six months?”

Michael blushes and slinks back to his shower. “Shut up.”

“Oh how I love new blackmail material,” Calum sings, shutting off the shower and reaching for his towel with a cheerful smile.

He realises that he probably deserved that one. “Will you help me though? Tonight?”

Calum grins. “Hell yeah. Operation: Get Luke to fuck Michael is a go.”

Michael throws the bar of soap at his head and cackles as Calum manages to catch it but drops his towel onto the wet ground.

“I fucking hate you,” Calum groans.

 

*

 

When Michael and Calum emerge from Michael’s hotel bathroom, it’s almost one in the morning and Michael’s hair is back in all its 2014 Clifford the Big Red Dog glory, the bright, loud dark-ish red that made the world tilt on its axis the first time.

“Damn,” Calum yells from his perch on the edge of the bed, watching as Michael dries his hair, “Red is a fucking good look on you.”

He grins at Calum in the mirror. “No homo?” He mouths under the sound of the hair dryer.

Calum chucks a pillow at his back and Michael ducks, laughing as it knocks down the bottles of water on the table below. “Shut up,man _.”_

“Yeah, yeah, you know you want this,” he says, shaking his butt in Calum’s direction.

“What the hell does Luke see in you,” his so-called best friend mutters with a flat look. “He’s clearly blind.”

Rolling his eyes, Michael switches off the dryer. “You’re ugly and no one likes you.”

“Excuse me,” Calum says, affronted, hand over his heart like a theatre-actor and looking for all the world like Michael just insulted his mum, “I’ll have you know that Ashton loves me very much.”

“You two are so fucking married,” he says as he finishes brushing his hair, “Seriously, _seriously_ married.”

“You and Luke have _nothing_ on Cashton.”

Michael takes that as an extreme insult and swings around. “Muke is the biggest ship in the fam.”

Brown eyes glitter as a cheeky smile spills across Calum’s mouth. “Wanna bet?”

“You know you’re gonna lose.”

“Nah, hell no, brah.”

They dive for their phones at the same time, opening twitter and a new tweet box.

_@Michael5SOS: All my muke shippers say AYE_

He sniggers as the retweets and replies flood in like a tsunami and arches an eyebrow at Calum who’s sprawled next to him on the bed. He snorts and presses his screen and a notification pops up on Michael’s screen.

_@Calum5SOS: Where’s my cashton squad at WHOOP_

Michael grins. Calum’s smirk curls up higher.

_@Michael5SOS: Ship wars! Muke vs. Cashton; who will arise as champion?_

_@Calum5SOS: @Michael5SOS bitch please, we’re gonna beat yo ass_

_@Michael5SOS: MUKE SQUAD SQUARE UP! Bring it @Calum5SOS_

They’re both giggling as they watch the fandom spiral into a crazed pack fight, retweeting the best replies they see, pressed together from shoulder to waist, side by side.

The retweets on his tweet jump higher and higher and Michael cackles, poking Calum’s cheek and he gets a tongue stuck out in return.

_@Michael5SOS: Don’t be a sore loser, Cal ;)_

Calum grumbles next to him.

_@Calum5SOS: GTFO, Michael, no one likes you_

_@malumistheshiptobeat: @Michael5SOS @Calum5SOS talking bout the wrong ship tbh_

_@Michael5SOS: @malumistheshiptobeat @Calum5SOS Malum AF?_

_@Calum5SOS: OH EM GEE MALUM FOR LYFE_

_@lashtonking: guys, lashton wins every time_

Calum, tears lining his eyes and stomach aching from laughter, pulls Michael into his side. “C’mon, we aren’t letting lashton win this.”

Groaning, he leans in and presses his mouth to Calum’s scrunched up cheek as he takes the selfie, before licking him as he leans away.

“Gross, Mikey,” he swipes at the saliva, wiping it on Michael’s shirt as he uploads the picture onto twitter.

_@Calum5SOS: me and bae @Michael5SOS <3 Clifford the bid red dog is back y’all OMG _

Michael’s stomach protests as they both collapse in a giggling heap, watching the frantic screeching about the return of the red hair crash Twitter. 

_@Ashton5SOS: @Luke5SOS listen to sad songs with me? #betrayedbymalum_

_@Luke5SOS: @Ashton5SOS bringing ice cream and the notebook #heartbrokenthanksmichael_

_@Ashton5SOS: @Luke5SOS love you, babe #heartbrokenthankscalum_

Calum’s laughter becomes edged with hysteria, his voice strained when he finally manages to find it. “Oh my god, I think I’m dying.”

Michael wheezes, wiping his eyes, “ _Fuck,_ I can’t breathe—shit, this is,” he dissolves into giggles, “I _can’t.”_

Just as they’re about to call it a night, another notification from Ashton pops up and Michael’s heart shoots to his throat as he gapes at the uploaded picture.

_@Ashton5SOS: Luke loves me and not you #shade #lashton4eva_

Calum pats his shoulder, amusement and sympathy warring on his face, as Michael stares at the selfie. Ashton has Luke squished into his side, tangled together with the biggest grins on their faces with Luke’s nose is pressed into Ashton’s dimple.

“Goddamit, he’s good,” Michael scowls and throws his phone at his bag on the floor, flopping face down on the bed.

“There, there,” Calum murmurs but he can hear the glee drowning the sympathetic words and growls into the mattress.

Ashton wins this time. Michael swears that his revenge will be swift and painful.

 

*

 

It’s only the next morning that Michael sees Calum’s last tweet from the night before, after he’s gotten onto the tour bus and dumped his stuff on the bed. The photo posted has him curled into Calum, clearly asleep with a troubled look on his face.

_@Calum5SOS: never admits when he’s jealous, does he #muke5eva_

“ _CALUM!”_

“Shit,” comes from the kitchen on the bus as Michael storms past a bemused Luke and a sniggering Ashton to corner Calum near the fridge.

“I will end you.”

Calum grins, “I have things you don’t want people to know,” and waves his phone. “ _Recordings_ you don’t want certain people to hear.”

“Fuck you,” Michael snaps and grabs the bowl of cereal from his hand and stalks back to his bunk to sulk in peace.

 _“Least he didn’t break the phone,”_ he hears Ashton laugh as Calum snorts.

 _“Least he didn’t break my_ neck _.”_

 _“Guys,”_ Luke’s voice drifts through Michael’s curtain, _“What the fuck is going on?”_

Michael rolls his eyes, taking an angry mouthful of cereal. _Abso-fucking-lutely nothing,_ he swears, glaring at the wood panelling of his bunk. _Nothing._

 

*

 

They’re back in LA a week later for a few days off and the four of them are out together—like they don’t spend enough time together already—and Calum drags them to Starbucks.

“I don’t _care_ about the sugar content!” He exclaims despite the exasperation on Ashton’s face. “I want the fucking biggest caramel Frappuccino they have and a two double chocolate brownies.”

Michael is rolling his eyes at Luke as this continues for a few moments before Ashton finally snaps. “Oh my god, I’ll buy the damn heart-attack-in-a-cup for you, Jesus Christ, if you’ll shut up.

“Wow,” Luke says, eyeing an immediately silent, smirking Calum with narrowed eyes, “That took a lot less time than I thought.”

“What?”

“What, you think Calum was arguing because he felt like it?” Michael scoffs, patting Ashton’s back, “Honey, no.”

His eyes are comically wide as he turns to the innocent-looking bassist. “You little _shit.”_

Before the impending argument has time to erupt, they reach the front of the line. The barista smiles.

“Hi, what can I get for you today?”

Calum’s back straightens and his smirk dies a swift death as it morphs into his classic _hi-my-name-is-Calum-Hood-you-know-you-want-my-number_ smile, complete with a flash of white teeth and bright brown puppy eyes. So _this_ is the girl. Michael can see where this train leads before it happens. A spectacular crash off a snowy cliff, ending in a fireball as the fuel ignites in the wake of her rejection.

“Hey, babe.”

The girl blinks, eyes flickering behind Calum to Ashton and then to Luke before settling on him and she blanches a little when she sees him watching her, smile flickering. He winks, nodding his head in Calum’s direction. She blushes before her attention swings back to Calum.

“Hi?”

Luke has to turn back towards Michael, hand pressed over his mouth to stifle laughter, and his eyes burn with blue fire as they catch his gaze. He grins and the strangled sound Luke makes is worth the weird looks they get from people around them.

“He’ll have a tall caramel Frappuccino and two chocolate brownies, please,” Ashton says before Calum can open his mouth, flashing a bright, dimpled grin at the poor girl. “And I’ll have whatever you recommend.”

Michael feels sorry for Calum, really he does, as he sees her eyes soften and her soul practically melt at Ashton’s attention.

Her hands stumble over the screen and she winces, deleting the order and retyping, a blush high in her cheeks.

“Uh, gimme a sec,” she turns around abruptly and disappears behind the coffee machines, returning a few moments later with brighter eyes and a less shaky smile, “the red velvet Frappuccino is new? It’s actually really good, unless you wanted something less…sugary?”

Michael ducks his head to hide the amused grin. God, this girl is adorable.

Ashton gives her another of his heart-breaking smiles. “You think I’ll like it?”

“Uh…sure? I mean, it’s good, really good,” her eyes flit to Ashton’s arms as she moves her gaze down to the screen, “So, is that all?”

“Sure, thanks,” Ashton murmurs and hands over the cash, “Keep the change, babe.”

He drags tight-lipped, hard-jawed Calum away from the counter towards a booth at the back. “That’s how you flirt, genius,” Michael hears him hiss into Calum’s ear as they brush past them.

Luke steps up to the counter, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry about them,” he says to the shell-shocked girl, “They’re both idiots.”

She blinks at him for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the ten dollars change into the tip jar. “It’s fine. Never expected to meet either of them or have them try to out-flirt each other over me.”

Michael laughs aloud at that. _Damn_ she’s good. “You’re good,” he tells her, “Very good.”

“Well,” she shrugs around a pleased smile that has her eyes gleaming river-stone brown in the sunlight that floods from the floor-to-ceiling windows, “I spend a lot of time on tumblr.”

“Oh you’re one of those,” Luke chuckles, ordering two iced chocolates for both him and Michael, “A _Tumblr_ girl.”

She rolls her eyes as she counts his change, “So much stigma around us, I swear we aren’t that bad.”

“Nah,” Michael says, “You seem pretty sane to me.”

“Can I have that in writing?” She asks with a grin, handing Luke the money and a table number, “Here you go.”

“Sure, got paper?” Michael teases, “My handwriting sucks though.”

She laughs, “I’m framing it, not getting it tattooed. Besides, I like your handwriting _._ ”

The chime above the door jangles as a group of tourists come in and Luke and Michael move away from the counter.

“Come by our table, yeah?” Michael says, grinning, “I’ll write that out for you.”

“Legit?” She asks with wide eyes, “Oh wow…okay, yeah, thanks, Michael.”

As she turns to serve the new customers, he follows Luke to where the other half of the band is squabbling over something or rather that Michael really can’t be bothered to care about.

“So, that girl?” Luke asks as he slides in next to Calum, question aimed at Michael, “You gonna ask her out?”

The cashton argument comes to screeching halt as the two of them turn confused expressions on Luke.

“What?” Ashton asks, raising an eyebrow at Michael.

Michael has no idea either, staring wide-eyed at Luke and wondering where the hell he gets these conclusions from. “Yeah, what?”

Luke doesn’t meet his eyes, fiddling instead with the table number. “You were flirting with her pretty hard.”

—and what?

“What?” He repeats out loud, eyeing Luke’s hunched shoulders and downturned mouth. “I wasn’t flirting, I was being _nice_.”

“Hey guys,” a soft voice interrupts their conversation, the same girl from before standing next to their booth with a tray of drinks piled high with whipped cream. God, he was going to have to work out with the other this week. _Dammit._

“Hi,” he says, “Thanks.”

She sets the drinks out in front of them, sliding a full plate of brownies to the middle. “On the house,” she shrugs, “Manager’s daughter is a huge fan apparently.”

“ _Sick_ ,” Calum cheers, grabbing one off the plate, “Thank fuck for our fans. Free food is my ultimate goal.”

The girl laughs, “Yeah, if only Nandos gave you black cards.”

Luke says nothing amidst the proclamation of sighs and exclamations and Michael swallows, his mind flashing back to Calum’s words.

_He obviously feels the same way._

Shaking his head, he looks up at the girl. “Were you serious about the writing thing?”

She pulls out a notepad and a pen, a smile lighting up her eyes. “If you don’t mind?”

“What exactly did you want?” Michael asks, ignoring Luke’s gaze as it bored into his forehead.

“ _You seem pretty sane to me_ ,” she reminds him with a grin, “Who knows, I might actually make that my first tattoo.”

He makes a face, concentrating on making his words legible as he loops his Y, “Please don’t have my handwriting tattooed on your skin, I’ll feel guilty forever.” He signs it off and hands it back to her.

“Thank you so much,” she says pocketing the notebook, “Mum would slaughter me if I got a tattoo, so its not happening. But I actually will frame this.”

Michael chuckles. “No worries. Thank you for the drinks.”

“Michael, I work here, it’s my job,” she says, laughing, picking up the tray. “Okay, well. This is my life made so I’m gonna leave you guys alone. It was really nice to meet you all.”

They give a collective thanks. Luke tries but valiantly fails at pulling a smile.

The girl grins, a little knowing, and taps Luke’s shoulder to get his attention away from the whipped cream on his straw. “Hey, Luke? You haven’t had any competition for a long time. Michael’s all yours.”

She disappears with a pat to his shoulder and a wink at Michael.

He’s floored. Absolutely floored. He stares at the red that is high in Luke’s cheeks, the flush burning in his ears and down his neck as Ashton and Calum choke on their receptive drinks as they try not to laugh.

“Fuck off, Cal,” Luke mutters and his blush darkens as he tugs at his lip ring.

Calum snorts. “Like hell.” Ashton shushes him as he catches Michael eyes and jerks his head at Luke. _“Well?”_ He seems to say.

_He obviously feels the same way._

“You know,” Michael’s mouth says for him as his brain tries to catch up, “she’s isn’t wrong.” His heartbeat rockets and he feels a little sick, but something settles under his skin for the first time in a long time as the confession hangs between them.

Luke’s fingers freeze, his straw stuck in the mostly stirred in cream, and his clear blue eyes slowly move up from his hands to meet Michael’s soft green ones. “What?” His voice break around the quiet question.

He smiles, a little helpless, as the butterflies in his stomach flitter back and forth. A shrug hunches his shoulder for a moment and he reaches forward under the table to hook his ankles around Luke’s, letting their feet become entangled. “You’ve had me from _I like Blink-182_.”

The amazement in Luke’s eyes makes Michael’s heart ache with fondness and love. He feels like he’s floating.

“Mikey,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “That was five years ago.”

“I know,” Michael bites his lip, fiddling with his glass but not breaking eye-contact, “It’s been a long five years.”

Luke’s eyes glitter bright ocean blue as light reflects off his glass. “I’ve been in love with you since you let me see the person underneath the walls you built.”

Michael feels like his heart swells a thousand times at its beats triple and grin break across his mouth, aching in his cheeks when it can’t widen any more. Luke rubs his shoe against Michael’s calf, the answering smile that dimples in his cheeks quickly becoming his favourite of Luke’s smiles and he wants so badly to lean across the table and kiss him.

“I love you,” he says instead, chest aching and full, “Always have.”

 _“FUCKING FINALLY!”_ Calum bursts and his relieved laughter has the entire café turning to look at them.

Ashton hits him on the head, gentle and with love. “Shut up, oh my god.” He turns to Michael as he hides his face from the stares, cheeks burning as Luke plays with his feet. “I’m getting more cavities from you two than this drink. We’re going home right now. If you two don’t kiss ASAP my whole life will have been a lie.”

Luke’s adorable, squeaky laugh burns a hole in Michael’s chest as usual and he grins, leaning forward and squeezing his hand.

“Home?”

Luke looks back at him, turning his palm up and tangling their fingers together with a wicked grin. “Bed.”

Michael’s on his feet and pulling Luke with him to the door because the fire in his blood want him to push Luke against the nearest vertical surface and kiss the life out of him.

“ _Oi,”_ Calum groans, “ _Wait for us, you fuckers.”_

Ashton, unsurprisingly, is on the same page. “ _This needs to be documented for your future children!”_

Luke is laughing as they stumble out the door, falling into Michael’s side, and fitting himself to his usual spot as they run down the streets to their house, the hot Californian sun grinning down on the two of them.

Michael makes himself a promise to come back and give that girl VIP tickets to their next LA show. But right now? Right now, he has his boy by his side and his friends behind them and the world at their feet. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right here.

“I love you,” he murmurs to Luke as they slow to a walk.

Luke stops abruptly, catching Michael’s eyes, before yanking them to the side and into an alley. “Yeah?” He asks on a breath, crowding Michael against the wall.

“Yeah.” He grins, letting Luke push him against the brick wall, his hands gripping his waist as Luke cups his jaw and kisses him silent.

 

*

 

They’re alone one night, a few blissful days later, curled up in on opposite ends of the couch with their feet tangled between them. The original Toby Maguire _Spiderman_ is playing on the television as they share a bowl of gummy worms.

Michael gets distracted from the ending when Luke makes a considering sound at Mary-Jane’s _I’ve always been standing in your doorway,_ his eyes catching the small curl of Luke’s mouth. He’s always been a sucker for a good ending.

As the credits begin to roll, Michael lazily scrolls through his twitter feed and realises that Luke had tweeted more than an hour ago.

_@Luke5SOS: Gummy worms and Spider-Man_

Michael scoffs to himself.

_@Michael5SOS: @Luke5SOS AND ME_

Luke’s phone pings and he raises an eyebrow at a cheeky Michael when he sees the notification. The snort of laughter that follows soon after is fond. “You loser.”

“I was informing the people of the truth,” he says with a yawn, stretching his arms above his head, “Lying by omission is still lying.”

“Alright. _”_ Luke rolls his eyes, tossing his phone onto the coffee table and settling back against the arm rest.

Michael presses shuffle on one of his many playlists and lets his phone drop to the floor beside the couch.

“Why’re you so far away?” He frowns suddenly, making grabby hands at his boyfriend, “C’mere.”

Luke looks like he attempts to stifle the smile that immediately pulls at his mouth but gives up. “You’re so needy,” he grumbles but shuffles until he’s practically sitting in Michael’s lap.

His cheeks warm as he realises that the song playing is _Just a Kiss_ by Lady Antebellum. Luke’s fingers find the spaces of his as his arms wrap around him and settle of his stomach.

Michael nuzzles the back of his neck, nosing the shell of his ear and revelling in the shiver that vibrates down Luke’s spine. “You love it,” he murmurs against his ear, sucking on Luke’s earlobe. “Don’t lie.”

A breathy moan tumbles past Luke’s lips. “Michael.”

He chuckles, his warm breath washing over Luke’s pulse as he presses a wet kiss to it. “Yeah?”

Luke mumbles something incoherent, letting his head fall to the side and Michael doesn’t let it go to waste, brushing his along the side of Luke’s neck, pressing slow, sucking kisses to the sensitive spot at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers against the bare skin of his shoulder as the song fills the gentle atmosphere. “Turn around.”

_Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight, just a touch of the fire burning so bright_

Michael catches his mouth the moment Luke settles on top of him, sliding one hand into his hair and holding Luke’s hand with is other. Their lips glide across each others, warm and familiar, and Michael licks along Luke’s bottom lip, smiling as his mouth falls open and he chases Luke’s tongue into his mouth, biting over the lip ring, fingers tightening in his hair.

His heart is beating so hard he think Luke can feel it, the tight feeling in his chest aching as air runs out and Michael lets their mouths part to breathe before Luke pulls him back and kisses him, hard and slow, lazy, sloppy and perfect.

Luke squeezes his fingers as they break apart, breathing heavy and hot between them, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed.

_Just a shot in the dark that you just might be the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life_

“I love you,” Luke murmurs and Michael opens his eyes, bringing the hand in Luke’s hair to cup his cheek, thumb brushing in an arc under his eye.

The air is punched out of his lungs when two beautiful blue eyes blink open, and Luke smiles, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“You know I love you,” Michael brings them close enough that their lips brush as he talks, “Always have.”

_So baby I’m alright_

Luke smiles, small and private. “Just a kiss goodnight,” he sings softly and Michael’s heart squeezes.

“It’s never felt so real,” he mumbles as he presses his mouth to Luke’s.

“No it’s never felt so right,” they whisper, hands tangled and stomachs warm.

 

*

 

No one is more surprised than Ashton and Calum when they come home to find their best friends fast asleep on the couch with _Just a Kiss_ on repeat.

“You know,” Ashton says quietly, a smile tugging at his lips as he looks at two of his best friends happy and in love, “this might be the best thing that’s happened in the past five years.”

Calum leans on his shoulder, his own smile content and relaxed. “You know what, drummer boy, I agree.”

“C’mon,” Ashton pats Calum’s side, “Let’s leave them be.”

He does, but no before snapping up a quick picture. “Need something for the future wedding video,” Calum shrugs at the raised eyebrow from Ashton.

“Shot gun Luke’s best man,” Ashton grins as they head for the kitchen. “You know Mike’s gonna want you.”

Calum shrugs noncommittally even though he’s already got most of his speech planned out in his head. “Yeah, he fucking better.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So...hope that was okay :D Kudos and comments are always welcome XD Please do leave a comment though, I'm a sucker for those. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> My tumblr is aneverendingreplay ^_^ Come say hi!


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